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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230909">Exterreri</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighAsHope/pseuds/HighAsHope'>HighAsHope</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Feels, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:27:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,103</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23230909</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighAsHope/pseuds/HighAsHope</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>No soul is immune to a nightmare.</p>
<p>A half-devil is no exception.</p>
<p>(DantexReader)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dante (Devil May Cry)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>103</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Exterreri</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>His breathing was heavy, weighted, but he could feel his extremities come alive, one by one. He flexed his fingers, his hand reaching up to unceremoniously crack his neck to try and break the tension.</p>
<p>Blue eyes fluttered open, vision blurry and unstable as they adjusted to the environment around them.</p>
<p>Dante took in the orange glow of the crackling fireplace, the flames’ shadows dancing across familiar wooden floors and heavy scarlet curtains. He tilted his head up, taking in the portrait that hung above the mantel, haunting and homely. </p>
<p>A space he knew, one that he onced loved, one that should be nothing but rubble and splattered with blood, one that should be <em> cold</em>.</p>
<p>But it was <b>warm</b>.</p>
<p>His movements were slow, tapered, but he heard familiar laughter from the kitchen, and the smell of strawberry cake that took over his senses guided him to a threshold that he leaned upon with ease. His arms moved to cross over his chest, and he smiled.</p>
<p>Eva was tall and ethereal, her robes dancing as she moved from one spot to the other, taking unused dishes to the awaiting sink. Her expression was one of joy, the corner of her eyes crinkling just a bit, while her mouth moved to spill words that were not privy to Dante’s ears.</p>
<p>Had he forgotten what she sounded like?</p>
<p>His attention flitted to the form that was currently hunched over the counter, back turned to him as their focus remained on the delicate process of piping the cake he had smelled earlier. But he knew that hair, that shape, had been privileged enough to run his calloused hands over such delicate features-</p>
<p>He knew <em> you</em>.</p>
<p>Slowly you straightened your posture, placing the baking tool off to the side as you turned to face him, eyes widening a bit before they softened. You smiled, lips parting to allow his name to roll off of your tongue, before they snapped shut, your expression shifting.</p>
<p>He heard a terrible screech, and another, and another. He heard fire crackling in the distance, watched as Eva pulled the shades away from the back door to look outside, unbridled terror taking over her features. Dante tried to move, tried to shout, but he found himself stuck, his one hand coming up to hold his throat when he realized nothing could come out of it.</p>
<p>He was useless.</p>
<p>Unable to stop her, he watched his mother throw open the door and run outside to shout for his brother- the only part of her voice he was allowed to hear.</p>
<p>
  <em> “Vergil!” </em>
</p>
<p>Fire shattered glass windows, spilling in to send its smoke down his lungs, raising the heat in his body ten-fold. He felt your hand wrap around his, strong enough to tug him from the threshold and into the living room, strong enough to break him out of this stupor. </p>
<p>You were shouting something, but he couldn’t hear you. He heard nothing but the sounds of demons pillaging and destroying the world without regard, he heard nothing but the sounds of Hell itself. </p>
<p>Dante watched as you tripped a bit, using what little strength he had to steady you before taking the lead and shoving the front door open. But his eyes did not find a sanctuary, they did not find a path to freedom-</p>
<p>They found nothing but fire.</p>
<p>He would burn here- weak and tired.</p>
<p>
  <em> You would burn on the same land his mother had. </em>
</p>
<p>He turned to look at you, his chest heavy and breaths shallow as he watched you turn to him with pleading eyes, your grip on him tightening. If his last act was to get you out, to just try, then so be it.</p>
<p><em> He had to at least try. </em> </p>
<p>Isn’t that what he had always done?</p>
<p>“Goddamn it!”</p>
<p>Your hand slipped from his, your eyes shooting up to the top window at the source of the voice. A flash of white hair, barely visible as it quickly moved out of view, and he knew what you were going to do- and he couldn’t stop you. He was being forced to watch the events unfold before him, he was nothing but a bystander.</p>
<p>And you sounded so much like <em> her </em> when you said it, his name falling from your lips like only a mother’s distressed call could.</p>
<p>Kindness would take you both.</p>
<p>
  <em> “Nero!” </em>
</p>
<p>He could only watch as you ran back to the house, couldn’t move as he watched the flames dance up the building to claim his home, his nephew, to claim <em> you </em>.</p>
<p>Dante found that he couldn’t breath, felt flames lick at his skin, felt himself dying-</p>
<p>Felt himself not caring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong> <em>//////////////////////////////////</em> </strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em> “Dante, you have to wake up. Everything’s okay, it’s not real, alright? I’m here, I’m here.” </em>
</p>
<p>Two hands, cold but welcoming on his overheated skin, cradled his cheeks. Two thumbs moved back and forth across his stubble in a calming motion, the feeling having Dante forget about what it felt like to burn alive.</p>
<p>The smell of your perfume overtook the overwhelming scent of demon flesh, and the way his name kept falling from your lips like a mantra wiped out the sounds of chaos.</p>
<p>He felt his senses come back, one by one. He felt his grip on the edge of the mattress loosen, felt the cold floor on the bottom of his feet, and he knew that somehow he was sitting up.</p>
<p><em> “It’s just a dream. You’re home- </em> <b> <em>we’re home</em></b><em>."</em></p>
<p>Dante forced his eyes to open, the vision of you looking down on him overtaken by red.</p>
<p>Had he triggered?</p>
<p>No. Not yet. But he had been close.</p>
<p>He blinked, once, twice, and his eyesight returned to normal. Your expression changed from controlled panic to relief, but your hands still cradled him, seemingly afraid to let go.</p>
<p>“...Glad to have you back.”</p>
<p>Your voice was raspy and broken, indicative of how you were on the verge of tears from worry.</p>
<p>How long had he been like this?</p>
<p>He couldn’t even find the strength to ask you that, couldn’t find it within himself to say anything at all. Instead, he moved his arms to wrap them around your waist, anything to pull you closer, and rested his head upon your abdomen. You stood between his legs, your one hand falling to his shoulder while the other smoothed out his hair, and let him rest.</p>
<p>Despite how much he had teased you with the <em> ‘devils never cry’ </em>bit, you would say nothing about the wetness that got onto your shirt.</p>
<p>Perhaps, after all these years, after everything that happened, he needed this release.</p>
<p>He needed you.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know Dante is all care-free and all of that most the time, but I wanted to take a try at writing a pretty angsty bit for him. Poor thing has definitely seen quite a bit of shit!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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